


For Survival and Something More

by GwendolynGreene



Category: Jurassic World (2015), Jurassic World Trilogy (Movies)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alpha Owen, Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/M, Ficlet, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Halloween, I stopped updating tags, I willl give ratings for each chapter, Masturbation, No Kid-Fic Whatsoever, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Raptor Parent Owen, Rating May Change, individual ratings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2018-08-16 04:35:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 18,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8087554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GwendolynGreene/pseuds/GwendolynGreene
Summary: A collection of ficlets and short stories for Clawen.  This is where I will put all of my little ideas and small works. Some of these chapters may be explicit - please see the rating in the notes at the top of each chapter for this information. Feel free to send me prompts, too! My general rule is no kid-fic. Comment or go to my Tumblr to submit prompts or suggestions.





	1. The Robe

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter rated G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter rated G

Claire sat in front of the window, curled up into a comfy ball. The window seat was her favourite spot in the house. At night, Owen would have to practically drag her to bed to avoid her falling asleep there while watching the stars.

Today it was raining. The steady _patter_ on the glass was soothing, the mug of tea in her hands warm, and the giant robe she wore cozy. It was Owen’s robe. It dwarfed her completely and she had to keep pushing the sleeves back up because they kept sliding down to her elbows. She hadn’t bothered tying the mass of soft fleece around herself, and the strip of fabric dangled down to the floor from where she sat.

She nuzzled up inside the big, fluffy hood to ward off the cold emanating from outside. He was still in bed, of course, or at least had been when she’d snuck out from under his arm to make her morning coffee. There was nothing she had to do today so she’d opted for tea instead. It was quiet. She didn’t want to wake him. More specifically, she didn’t want to try to wake him only to be pulled back into bed herself so he could cuddle up beside her and waste away her morning. The prospect of the warm bed, with its warm blankets and warm Owen, was tempting, but that’s why she’d stolen the robe. Her own robe was too small, made of a thin silky material, and didn’t cover much at all. Besides, this one even smelled of Owen.

Claire flexed her toes inside of the fuzzy socks he had gotten her for her birthday. Apparently he didn’t appreciate her cold feet nudging him in his sleep and, not wanting to relinquish his cuddlebug title, bought her the socks to solve the problem. She smiled, breathing in the steam from her tea.

There were groceries that needed buying and laundry that needed doing, but Claire had sworn off all of it when she’d woken to the sound of the morning rain. There were very few days she got to spend with Owen and nothing else and she decided she would cherish this one. He wouldn’t want to go anywhere in this weather and she wouldn’t even be able to get in a run without returning home miserable, so they would be able to spend the entire day doing nothing whatsoever. It sounded magical.

The only sound she could hear was the rain on the glass, so she was mildly surprised when the bedroom door opened and Owen emerged behind it. He was all sleepy-eyes and bed-head and gained a look of understanding when he saw Claire, curled up inside of his giant robe. She smiled a tiny guileful smile, mumbling a “good morning”.

He strode down the hallway towards the kitchen and returned the greeting. Claire turned as he went, watching the hem of her tiny, red robe flutter just above his exposed bum and had to stifle a laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tee hee :)
> 
> Expect more chapters added to this work, I'm sort of going to be using this as a dumping ground for the plot-less ficlets that I'm always tempted to write but I never do because I'm a Plot Monster and have way too many on the go already.
> 
> PLOT MONSTER
> 
> Thanks for reading, Kudos always appreciated!
> 
> -GG


	2. Stubble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire really needs to have a talk with Owen about his stubble. It's causing a rather...uncomfortable problem for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter rated M 
> 
> (sorta- it's pretty tame)

Owen sat across the kitchen table, reading the newspaper while idly scratching the stubble on his chin. Claire quietly munched on her breakfast while staring, half at Owen’s facial hair and half into nothing at all. It really did define his jawline, setting off the rest of his features. The one time she’d seen him without it, cleanly shaven, it had thrown her off. It was unusual, and almost a little unnatural on him. Right now it was that perfect length he preferred, a few days long, which he kept trimmed without ever shaving it off.

She really had to have a talk with him about that.

She shifted in her seat, deciding whether this was an appropriate setting for that particular conversation. He noticed her staring and looked up at her, smiling. She smiled back without even thinking. They’d used their favourite excuse so far to stay in bed, so their breakfast today was later than usual. 

She loved him. Loved everything about him. From the tip of his head, past his scratchy chin, to his big feet. It was just…difficult. For her. Among the many endearing traits of his, some which she could live with easier than others, was his penchant for maintaining the perfect length of stubble. Another was his love for burying his face between her thighs, pressed right up against and working against her most sensitive parts, for as long and as frequently as she could bear. But he had to understand that those two things simply couldn’t live in harmony with each other.

She shifted again in her seat, finding it difficult to find a position that was comfortable. Owen threw on that dopey-full toothed grin of his, taking Claire’s shifting as a mark of a job well done. She sighed and shook her head, returning to her cereal. She would have to talk to him about that.

Maybe some other time. It was, after all, a rather fun problem to have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That one was short! Enjoy! ♥
> 
> -GG


	3. Night Terrors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen is caught in an awful nightmare and Claire tries to wake him from it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter rated G

The sound had woken Claire from a dead sleep. She was confused at first, by more than the blurry cloud of sleep. It had taken her a moment before she could place it. It was a scream. No, not the ones still echoing in her mind from the island; none of those. It was a very real, very loud scream coming from the other room. Claire jolted out of bed when she heard it the second time.

Owen was thrashing in bed, still fully asleep, drenched in sweat. His fists were clutched around the bedsheets. “Owen?” She said at the doorway. She surged forward, eager to stop his distress. She tried to remember how Owen usually woke her up from her own nightmares so she could do the same, but realized her own nightmares always startled her awake. Owen always came running to a frightened Claire, clutching her chest in bed while fully awake. She placed a hand on his tight fist, trying to wake him up that way. He only continued to moan. She needed to stop this. Personal barriers be damned, she reached right for his chest, shaking him. Hard. “Owen!” She called out, louder than his own sounds.

Owen suddenly came alive, springing up into a sitting position. His eyes were frantic, taking in his surroundings and passing over and around Claire multiple times before settling on her. His hands had relinquished the balled-up bedsheets and had found their way to her outstretched arms, clinging for life before he realized she was really present.

“You were screaming…” She explained. She could see him try to slow his breathing, forget whatever was terrorizing him before. He held tight to her hand.

He settled back down onto his pillow out of pure exhaustion. He looked to be shaking. She made no move to take back her hand. His grip was tight, but not so tight it was uncomfortable. He opened his eyes and looked right at her in the dark. In her haste she hadn’t turned on any lights.

“Do you want me to go?” Claire asked.

“No.” Owen said immediately.

Claire waited a few more breaths. “Do you want me to stay?”

Claire meant nothing more than to sit there with him, hold his hand, even, if he wanted her to, until he fell back asleep. Slowly he nodded so she moved to sit on the bed, but he pulled her in instead. She slipped her legs underneath the single blanket. Instead of perching on the very edge of the pillow like she was going to, he held tight to her hand. He pulled her close so that her head was in the crook of his arm, half on his chest, and her hand in his lay across his chest. The close contact was unexpected but she didn’t pull away. He was breathing hard and she wouldn’t dare leave him now. Whatever he needed. His arm wrapped around her back, holding their bodies close. Claire listened as the lull of sleep eventually slowed his heartbeat down to a normal level. 

She hoped that nightmares were done with the both of them for the night, and wasn’t disappointed when they woke in the morning without another interruption. Their mutual company proved itself the best comfort against terrors in the night and they returned the next night, and the night after that, to the same bed and the same position to ward them off as well they could. It wasn’t fool-proof, and some nights they still woke from nightmares, but proof that the other was safe and well was never far away. It was how they survived the night.


	4. Sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen wakes Claire early in the morning for a surprise in their new house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter rated G

Owen knelt beside the bed and gently shook Claire’s shoulder. She woke, mumbling incoherent sounds and trying to locate what had woken her. She turned and her sleepy eyes fell onto Owen.

“Whus goin on?”

“Come here.” Owen said as he rubbed her back to show everything was okay, he hadn’t woken her because anything was wrong. “I wanna show you something.”

Confusion took over her features as she rose in bed, yawning.

“What time is it?” She murmured.

“The only time I can show you, Babe. C’mere.” Owen, not wanting to waste any more time, scooped her up, blanket and all, into his arms and lifted her out of bed. She made a little squeaking sound but he continued out of their bedroom door and down the hall.

The little house they shared was nothing special. It was old and it looked its age; paint faded, floorboards that squeaked, and windows that let in the cold from outside on early mornings such as this. They’d been lucky to get a house at all, instead of some apartment somewhere. Owen wouldn’t have complained, however; he’d go anywhere he could be with Claire. But at least with a house there was privacy. A garage to store his new project bike. Given the choice, Owen would have preferred a bigger yard, but even the tiny postage stamp one they had with it’s even tinier deck was enough for him.

And it was that tiny yard with that tiny deck that Owen brought Claire to, still unwillingly waking herself up. He stepped out the patio door and she looked around.

“Is still dark? What’re you doing up? What’re we doin’ out here?” Claire yawned. Owen set her down, blanket wrapped tight around her shivering shoulders, and sat beside her. He grabbed the two mugs of hot coffee he’d already prepared and handed one over. She was grateful for the warmth but didn’t seem pleased that whatever Owen had woken her up so early for apparently wasn’t going to let her go back to sleep afterward.

They were still living out of boxes. It had been longer than it should have been considering how little they had to their names, but they’d found it difficult to unpack their few possessions into the tiny old house. It felt too permanent. Claire didn’t want to feel like she’d be stuck there forever, especially when the place didn’t feel like home yet. The coffee mugs were one of the first things they’d unpacked. Claire’s was a little blue one that held more than it looked like from the outside and emptied faster than he thought was possible. Some mornings it was filled and emptied three times over before even touching the counter. Owen’s was a round black one with a square handle that resembled a bowl more than it did a cup. It lasted him much longer, usually going cold before it was even finished.

Claire, bundled up in her blanket and slumped against Owen, was struggling to keep her eyes open. The caffeine hadn’t hit her system yet and Owen had to gently nudge her so she wouldn’t miss it. Claire opened her eyes. Between the rooftops behind their house, just beginning its first streak of light above the horizon, was a soft pink sunrise. It came through the morning fog, not yet burned off, and slowly began to fill the sky. They sat in silence and watched, coffee forgotten. Owen draped his arm around Claire’s blanketed shoulders, giving her arm a little squeeze. Claire tipped her head so it just touched Owen’s shoulder. They watched as the sunlight bounced off of the dew drops on their grass, making the whole lawn glitter. Claire suddenly saw herself reading a book, seated in a lawn chair, as bright little flowers dotted the edge of their yard. The sounds of Owen, in the garage, tinkering on his motorcycle. Late morning breakfasts enjoyed on the little porch, just wide enough for two little chairs and a small table. Late night gatherings of friends under hanging lanterns. Morning cups of coffee, just like they were now. 

Owen tapped on her shoulder, pointing her attention across their yard. In the far corner, right where the missing boards in the fence were, was a deer. It hesitantly lowered its head, taking a bite of the greenery. Claire turned back to Owen, now fully alert, with her full coffee cup still clasped in her hands. He put a finger to his lips, _silence_. They turned back and watched quietly until the deer raised its head again. It eyed them cautiously. It moved to lower its head again, but heard something off to the side, turning and scampering away.

When Owen looked to Claire again she had a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. For the first time since he’d known her, her coffee had gone cold. Owen placed a kiss on her cheek, pulling her close again, and they watched the rest of the morning appear over the horizon.


	5. Period Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen doesn't let Claire's period dissuade him from sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter rated E (*party party*)
> 
> It should be fairly obvious - if you don't like period sex you shouldn't read this chapter. Or do. Just don't complain to me about it. This is your fair warning.

Owen’s hand slid down her thigh, working its way into the crease of her panties. Claire _hmm’ed_ softly beside him. He was kissing her neck, making his intentions clear. It was Claire’s sweet spot- from right above the hollow of her neck, where her skin dipped into her collarbone, to just under her ear. While he had his mouth on that spot, her senses were dead to the rest of the world. Everything was Owen. His tongue wetting her skin. His teeth occasionally nipping her. His beard scraping against her pale skin. Her own hands flexed on his chest, fingernails occasionally digging into his skin in the best way. 

He shifted them, placing Claire on top him, moving his mouth down to the thin material of her shirt, kissing and sucking at the lumps of her breasts. She looked down at him, biting into her lip. She began to move her hips, adding just a little friction on the bulge quickly forming between his own legs. His hands found their way down to her ass, still sore from the not completely unkind slaps he’d given her there last night.

It wasn’t uncommon for morning sex to follow a night full “gettin’ rowdy”, but Owen found he had to be more tender in the mornings, just in case the pounding Claire found enjoyable in the moment had turned into something more like pain in the morning. But there wasn’t any complaining. One of Owen’s broad hands held tight to her butt cheek while the other snaked up her back to hold her body close to his. Claire continued to slide her smooth panties over his hardening cock, and Owen almost had the mind to let her do just that until he came from it alone. The urge to be inside her, to feel all of her wrapped around all of him, won over.

It only took one hand to rid Claire of her underwear, and then it was just skin on skin. His cock slid effortlessly into her. Owen was nearly dumbstruck by the easy glide, right down to the base. Claire bounced up and down a couple of times before her face screwed up and she had to pull away. Owen pulled out of her. Something was hurting. She was probably still tender from last night.

“Oh, shit.” Claire muttered, looking down. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“What?” Owen asked, looking down their bodies to the dots of red on his skin and the sheets.

“It’s three days early.” She complained. Owen resumed massaging up her ass to her lower back, knowing that once Claire started bleeding she’d be cramping. She said that massaging the area sometimes helped. “Fuck.”

Owen’s arms kept her in place as she tried to shift off of him. His mouth found her neck again, lulling her into that daze that left her speechless. “You wanna finish up here first?”

“WHAT? Are you crazy?” She said, opening her eyes. “I’m bleeding all over you.”

“So what? Lube: now comes in red.” He returned to his work on her neck but she stopped him, needing to speak.

“It’s going to get everywhere!”

“It always does.” He grinned. “And there’s only so much I can massage from the outside. I thought sex was supposed to help with the pain.”

“It can…”

“Well? What do you say?” Owen bucked, teasing her with the tip of his cock. She thought for a second before diving back in, giving confirmation for Owen to reposition. Owen slid easily back inside of her. He went slow, making sure nothing else was hurting. Then his hips kissed hers, feeling the extra wetness start to coat him. She took over the pace after that, straightening to get the best angle. Her hands dug into his chest, leaving half-moon marks that Owen would admire later. He rolled his hips in time with her, hitting her just right. As fun as it was to have Claire under him, absolutely nothing compared to seeing her eyes roll backward when the timing worked just perfectly with both of their movements, hitting both of her pleasure points at once.

He steadied her with his hands as it happened again. Claire threw her head back, letting out something almost like a scream as her orgasm crashed over her, causing her to rock her hips. The way she was perched on his lap, it only caused her to rock back onto Owen’s cock. He bent his knees, leaving her nowhere else to go. It did not help assuage Claire’s orgasm. She gasped and thrashed on top of him and the cycle threw her over and over, Owen’s cock setting off her orgasm, and her orgasm throwing her onto Owen’s cock even harder. Soon enough, the sight of Claire rolling through orgasm after orgasm and the feeling of her clenching around him, thrusting down onto him over and over, pushed him over the edge. The second his own orgasm was over, he reached up and pulled Claire down to rest against his chest.

She was almost completely out of breath as soon as she was given reprieve. Her entire body was still spasming, and pulling out of her only caused another jolt throughout her body. Once she’d caught her breath she rolled off of him, taking up the pillow beside his. Owen could feel the cool air hit his skin and knew he must be covered in their mixed fluids. He risked looking down and for the first time questioned how long it’d take to wash this out of the sheets.

Claire was still huffing beside him. She couldn’t sit up or even raise her head to look. “How bad is it?”

Owen broke into laughter. “It looks like a crime scene.”

Claire only groaned. “Do me a favor, will you? Next time you want to use the red lube, maybe we just do it in the shower? I don’t want to take this off the list, I’m just trying to save the bedding.”

Owen grinned. “Deal.” He turned, placing kisses back on her amazing body. As he made a map of kisses down her stomach, he tried to recall where the hot water bottle was that Claire would probably need after this. For now, she seemed satisfied just running her fingers through his hair, humming in contentment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, would you look at that smut? ;) 
> 
>  
> 
> TMI: Inspired by my own uterus, who decided to ruin the party this morning. Thanks.


	6. Claws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen likes it when Claire digs her nails in, leaving scratches on his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter rated E

Claire hadn’t filed her nails for a week. It was odd for her, and she kept catching things with them. But as each day progressed and her nails continued to grow, so did Owen’s anticipation. The way he figured, if she was going to do it, then she was going to do it right.

Owen had been admiring the fresh marks on his back one night after a particularly rousing round of sex. He turned in the mirror, taking in the long, pink streaks Claire had left across his shoulder blades. He bit down on his lip, loving not just the way they felt, but the way they looked. He flexed the muscles in his back, feeling the sting. He turned again, to catch a tiny dot of red well up from one of the worst marks there. It was almost enough to get him hard again.

“Oh my God!” Claire said as she walked through the bathroom door and saw the same thing that Owen did. “You’re bleeding? Oh my God, I’m so sorry, let me get that.” She reached for the cabinet, likely to get something from their first aid stash. Owen turned, caught her wrists in his hands, and tried to distract her with a passionate kiss. She allowed it for a second before breaking away. “I’m sorry.”

He rumbled, quieting her apologies with grateful kisses. “I like it when you scratch me.” He fought to keep her hands in his grip as she once more tried to reach away.

“Owen.” She said against his mouth. He pulled back, just enough to let her speak. She looked him dead in the eye. “Owen, no. I’m drawing the line here. Scratches are one thing, bleeding is another. Let me clean it up, at least.”

Owen relented, allowing Claire to dab the area clean and put a bit of antibiotic cream on it, just in case. It stung, and Owen relished that feeling. Claire finished up, placed a kiss on the side of his head, and left him with a half-hard erection. When she’d gone to check on the marks later, he asked her to do it again. Practically begged her.

“I don’t get it. You really like that?”

“I really do.”

“I don’t know…” Claire paused, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Owen growled, deep in his chest. “Oh, but I really want you to.”

She’d conceded, on one condition: he wouldn’t complain when she tended to him after, cleaning him up and applying liniment where she deemed necessary. One week later, Claire’s nails were long enough to do some damage. He practically wrapped her up in his arms when she got home that night, kissing down her neck, and hauling her to their bedroom.

Claire insisted that Owen had to be on top the entire time, to make sure he wouldn’t bleed on their covers. He agreed, dropping Claire down on the bed and spreading her legs so he could get close. His hips pressed against hers as he leaned in, kissing her deeply. She ran her hands through his hair, and allowed her nails to gently graze his scalp. He felt the tingling feeling all the way through his body, setting him on fire. He moaned into Claire’s mouth, so she did it again, just a little harder. His hips bucked forward, rubbing the bulge that was straining the zipper in his pants against her soft panties.

Claire reached between them to unzip Owen’s pants. He eagerly assisted in bringing them down his hips and stepped out of them. After they’d shed the rest of their clothes, Owen covering most of Claire’s body in kisses, he reached for a condom in the top nightstand drawer. After tearing open the wrapper, Claire gently took it from him. She traced her nails down the length of his torso until she reached his throbbing cock. She rolled the condom on slowly, letting him feel every inch. She tested it by giving him a little kitten lick. When she was done he practically threw her back down on the bed, ready to devour her.

His pace was fast, his thrusts unrelenting. Claire gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders automatically. He could feel her nails digging in, each half-moon making its mark in his skin.

“Please,” Owen begged. Claire clenched her hands, dragging her nails across his skin. He growled, thanking her with a particularly deep thrust. She continued clawing at him, up to his neck, and across the wide span of his back.

He picked her up by the hips, keeping her seating on his cock, and spun them around, sitting her down on top of their dresser. He kept his thrusts short and sharp, since have to reposition and reinsert at this angle would waste too much time. With his hands free, he grabbed her breast in his left hand, and worked her clit with the other. Within a minute, her shaky breaths turned to drawn-out moans, her entire body shuddering against him. Her hands clenched up again, digging deep into the flesh on his lower back. He came, pumping the condom full inside of Claire, but he wasn’t finished. He pulled out to let his poor cock calm down for a moment, and kissed his way back down her body, stopping for a few seconds to suckle at her breasts.

He buried his face between her thighs, feeling the shining slick on her skin coat him as he worked his mouth and tongue over her clit. Her hands were back in his hair, scratching his scalp and pulling his hair at the root. She came again, hard and loud, and nearly tore Owen’s hair out doing so. His scalp was stinging when he worked his way back up. Claire was just riding out the final waves of her orgasm. He wiped his chin off on his forearm and drew her back in for a sloppy kiss. She flattened herself against his gleaming chest, wrapping her arms tight around his neck.

When he worked his way into the bathroom to dispose of the condom and maybe clean himself up a bit, the first sight that greeted him were the red lines painted down the sides of his neck, towards the back. They poured across his shoulders and down his spine, and a good amount of them were deep enough to bleed. He growled deep in his core, a low primal growl, which grabbed Claire’s attention. She plodded into the bathroom, still half dazed from her rocking orgasms, and her eyes landed on the mirror, where all her hard work was on display. Her first instinct, of course, was to rush to Owen’s aid, but the look of ecstasy on his face made her wait. She brought one of her hands to her mouth, sticking one of her talons between her front teeth delicately. She stood beside him, placing a tender kiss on his shoulder blade, and saw his cock give a twitch.

They locked eyes, full of mischief, and leaned in once more for a kiss. Claire’s hands came to the back of his head again, and he mumbled against her lips, “Please pull my hair again.” She did. His cock jumped again, and with a slap that stung Claire’s backside, he propped her up on the bathroom counter and dove back in.

The next day, Claire went out and got her nails painted a deep, luxurious red. She was starting to come around to the idea. After all, if Owen liked it so much, why not indulge? When she showed him, he kissed each and every one of her claws, and promised to put them to good use.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you look at all that smut. Oh wait, you just did. Thanks for reading!
> 
> (Also, I just realized that "Clawen" is a bit of a pun here, isn't it?)
> 
> -GG


	7. Hallowe'en

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Owen try to figure out what they should wear for Hallowe'en.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter rated G

Claire’s nose was buried in her phone when the maniacal laughter of a serial murderer spooked her from behind. She jumped and nearly dropped the phone. Owen lowered the animatronic clown mask, laughing. She gave him a good, hard smack on the arm. He promised not to do it again, setting the mask down, and continuing through the store.

“So, what do you wanna be?” Owen asked, cracking his knuckles as they passed a display of Styrofoam gravestones.

“I think I want to be single again.” Claire said, eyeing the fake spiders clung to the cobwebbing. 

“Very funny.” Owen said, turning the corner to the costume aisle. “I mean, what do you wanna dress up as?” he began to examine the bagged costumes on display. “You could be a sexy nurse, sexy lumberjack, sexy cop…” 

“Or a sexy hotdog.” Claire said, recoiling from the mini dress printed to look like it was covered in condiment.

Owen lifted a glittery, black tutu with two fingers, like he was afraid to touch it. “How about Batman?” He said sarcastically. “Oh, look! They have matching leather corsets, get the fuck outta here.” He grumbled, throwing the costume back on the racks. “Batman tutu…” He scoffed.

Something about Halloween changed Owen, or maybe it was just the innate five year old in him that came out whenever the pumpkins hit the store shelves. They’d had a giant, furry black spider hung on their front door since the beginning of September, which was far too early for Claire’s tastes, but she couldn’t say anything about it to Owen. Forget kid in a candy store, this was much worse. This was Owen in a Halloween store.

“Ha, check it- Fireman costume. Look where they put the hose.” Owen said.

“That’s unfortunate…”

“There it is! Couple’s costumes.” Owen said, pointing to the overhead sign further down the store. His face broke into a grin and he charged around the corner. Claire caught up with him just as he’d found the rack of axes and scythes. One second later and she was sure he would have tried to scare her with one of those, too. He picked one up and brought it with him as they entered the couple’s costume aisle.

“Oh, Babe! Babe, I got it.” Owen came back over to her, showing her the one he’d picked out.

“Snow White and the Hunter?” Claire drawled, looking at the preview image. “No way. You do not get to run around as a rugged manlyman carrying a bloody axe while I freeze my ass off in a princess mini skirt. That is not happening.”

“Oh, come on! It’s not that bad. It’s not like it’ll be _that_ cold.” Owen said, looking over the costume again.

“Oh, really? Then how about this?” Claire said, displaying the costume of her choice, a fuzzy, leopard print man-thong. “Tarzan and Jane.”

“Ha! You joke, but watch out. I might just get that for _personal_ use.” Owen grinned.

Claire scoffed. “I don’t like any of these! They’re all horrible!”

“Oh, come one. They’re not that bad.”

“Really? Let’s review our options: Doctor and Sexy Nurse, Pirate and Sexy Wench, Quarterback and Sexy Cheerleader.” Claire sighed. “You show me one costume that doesn’t suggest the use of _fishnets_.”

“Well, that mermaid tail goes all the way to the floor. Although, depending on your definition of fishnet…”

“Owen, I don’t know about this.”

“Oh, come on! You were the one who wanted to do a couple’s costume!”

“That was before we saw what was available.” Claire moaned. “There has to be something…”

“What if I wear the Batman Tutu?” 

“Not funny.”

“You could be Robin?”

“Also a tutu. Try again.”

“Gangster and Flapper Girl?” Owen said, pointing across the aisle.

“Nope.” Claire said. “Alice and the White Rabbit?”

“I don’t know about a rabbit. I wanna be something…manlier.” Owen flexed his arms. Claire rolled her eyes. “Like a cowboy. Or a fireman.” Owen waggled his eyebrows at her, which made her laugh, just a little.

“Okay, so you get to be something manly…not a fireman. And I get to be something that doesn’t have the word “sexy” in front of it.” They looked over the couple’s wall, trying to find the perfect idea. Owen’s head turned to something on the far wall and he pointed the tip of his scythe at it.

“I have an idea.” Owen made a beeline for the section of wall dedicated to vampires and werewolves.

“Oh, Owen, no. Please. I don’t want to be a vampire.”

“Stay with me for just a sec.” He grabbed one of the blood-red, floor-length cloaks from one side and a wolf mask from the other. “Huh? Huh? What do you think?”

“I said I don’t want to be a vampire.”

“Nope. Not a vampire. Who else wears a red, hooded cloak?” Owen asked, handing her the cloak. It was made of a soft velvet material with two long ties at the front. It was lined, and certainly looked warm. In fact it was gorgeous. “Red Riding Hood!”

“That- that’s perfect, actually. And you’d be the wolf.” Claire grinned. She couldn’t think of anything more perfect. With Owen and his whole Alpha-male, Leader-of-the-Pack thing going on, it just seemed _right_. Claire gestured to the side, where a Red Riding Hood costume was hanging, complete with both tutu and fishnet stockings. “But I’m not wearing _that_.”

“You don’t have to. C’mere.” Owen took her by the hand and they prowled the rest of the store, taking pieces from here and there, with plans to supplement their own articles of clothing into the mix to complete the effect.

When Halloween night finally rolled around, Claire spent nearly the entire day swishing around the house in her new red cloak. They’d trimmed the hood with fur, so it was extra soft and extra warm. She’d grabbed one of the Elizabethan bustiers from the costume store to put over one of her own blouses, and found a floor length skirt at a second hand shop.

Owen, on the other hand, was in full-on Wolf mode. They’d used some of the same fur from Claire’s cloak to stick out the front of Owen’s shirt, which was partially ripped open to show off his chest. He’d forgone the mask but opted for the werewolf gloves, which included claws, and ears. When he snuck up on Claire in the kitchen, she also discovered he’d picked up fangs at some point.

She pushed him away from where he was trying to kiss or nibble at her neck. “When did you get those?”

“Same time I got this.” Owen said, holding up the leopard print Tarzan thong. Claire yelped, snatching it from him and hiding it below the counter. From Claire’s laptop he heard her sister greet him. He returned the greeting sheepishly, grinning at Claire as she hid the thong in the folds of her cloak.

“You two look adorable!” Karen said from the other side of the computer screen. The point of her witch hat stuck out of the frame, her broom leaned up against the wall behind her.

“Thank you!” Claire responded. “Where are the boys?”

“Harry Potter took Indiana Jones out Trick-or-Treating, then they’re spending the night at Count Dracula’s.” Karen said, referring to her two boys and ex-husband respectively. “Are you guys going to a party or something?”

“Yeah, we have to leave in about ten minutes. What are you doing for the night?”

“Well, I’ve already eaten the rest of the candy, so I guess it’s turn off all the lights and watch a scary movie.”

“Well, nothing too scary I hope. Otherwise you might not sleep.” Claire said. She’d never been one for scary movies. Owen loved them, especially around this time of year, but Claire didn’t care for them. It wasn’t that they scared her too much- actually, it was the opposite. She couldn’t bring herself to care for the people in horror films that Claire described as ‘moronic imbeciles who purposefully make all the wrong decisions and get themselves killed for it’, and more often than not found herself rooting for the villain.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. Thinking about Owen in that man-thong is already scary enough.”

Owen chuckled, retrieving the thong back from Claire as she talked with her sister. He snuck into the bathroom and quietly did a quick change, putting the Tarzan costume on underneath his werewolf costume for a surprise when they came home. When he emerged and the two of them set out for the party, Claire was none the wiser.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically just because I had to write Claire and Owen dressing up as Red and the Wolf! (In case you missed it, Zach was Harry Potter, Gray was Indiana Jones, Scott was Dracula, and Karen was a witch.)
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> (I have half a mind to write a part 2 where Claire discovers Owen in the Tarzan thong, so let me know if you want something like that!)
> 
> -GG


	8. Fainting Spells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The summer is abnormally hot, even for Isla Nublar, and Claire's experiencing some fainting spells. Luckily for her, Owen always seems to be there at just the right time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter rated G

The summer two years before the downfall of the park saw some of the hottest temperatures the island had seen in years. Concession stands were running out of ice at a rate previously unseen due to the increased guest demand. The Park’s first aid staff saw at least one case of heat stroke _per day_ during the month of August. On top of all that, there were implications on the animals themselves. Some of the park’s assets were no more equipped for the scorching summer sun than the sunburned tourists they churned through one air-conditioned building to the next in a dreary haze. This made Claire’s job even harder than normal. Add to all that stress a minor change in medication Claire paid no amount of mind to, and her natural redheaded susceptibility to the effects of the sun was increased tenfold. During the course of that summer she fainted three times.

The first time was in the control room. She’d just come in from Main Street and the long hike through the park had tired her out. That’s what she’d blamed it on and figured it was nothing to be worried about. Unfortunately, the control room being as busy as it is, there were plenty of people present to witness it and the story spread like wildfire through the park’s staff. Desperate to avoid donning a reputation of fainting at all costs, she played it off like it was nothing and refused any semblance of concern over the next few days. If she was too hot, she didn’t say a word about it. If she was absolutely parched and her mouth felt like a desert, she sipped her water slowly.

The second time was later that week, during employee reviews. Divisional managers dealt with the lower-rank employees under their purview, but Claire and her team were left with anyone in charge of anything more than a pretzel stand or souvenir shop. Employees of all kinds had been filtering through her office all day, and at the rate they were going, it would take another whole day to work through them all. She’d managed to sneak away for a lunch break at one of the quick-service stands on the sunbaked Main Street, since she hadn’t the time to do anything more than gobble something down before returning to her office.

She was ascending the lengthy stairs of the Innovation building, still a long walk from the administration offices, when she felt it come on. She recognized it immediately, and moved to grab the railing. If she was going to faint, and she was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to stop it now, the last thing she wanted to do was to fall down these stairs. She must have been stumbling in her blind attempt to steady herself, because before she could wrap her fingers around the safety rail she’d lost consciousness, and Owen Grady had stepped in just in time to catch her.

She woke with her head in his lap as he was calling out to someone for help. They were still halfway up the staircase, with dozens of eyes on them from the floor below. She realized exactly where she was and tried to sit up. Owen ordered her to sit still until someone could look her over. The only possible silver lining was that her face was already so flushed from the heat it was impossible to read the pure embarrassment from finding herself in Owen’s lap.

“Why are you even here?” Claire asked.

“My employee review, remember? I’m your two-thirty.” Owen said. Claire brought a hand to her face, once more having to be told to lay still.

“Oh God. The reviews…I have to go…”

“You’re not goin’ anywhere.” Owen said once more, forcing her back down.

She’d been cleared by first aid staff, but given this was her second spell, she’d been forced to take the rest of the week off. The reviews were completed in two more days instead of just one without her to manage it all, but they were completed. Besides, that included Owen’s, and if she could avoid another moment where she had to listen to him say she was ‘Damn lucky he’d been there at the right moment’, then she would take it. The worst part of it wasn’t the arrogant smugness usually present on him. In fact, this time there was none at all. It was a look of something resembling more genuine concern, and not only was it completely foreign on Owen, it was also exactly what she was trying to avoid.

So there was nothing she was dreading more than the inspection of his Paddock when she returned to work the week after that. All of the workers at the Paddock had passed review, so the only thing left was to evaluate the work itself. Once she’d made sure all the work on the ground was as expected, it was time to head to the walkway above the paddock itself.

“Are you sure you’re good to go up there?” Owen asked, that look on his face making her angrier by the second. The heat still hadn’t lightened up any, and Owen’s shirt was soaked through with enough sweat to prove it.

“Of course I am.” Claire bristled. “Unless there’s something you don’t wish for me to see?”

“I ain’t hiding anything.” Owen said, leading her up the stairs to the rafters. The entire walkway was completely unshaded and the metal handrails were fiery in the sun. Being up here was dangerous enough to begin with, but with the prospect of Claire having another sudden fainting spell, he was on high alert. “Just be careful up here, okay? Don’t need anyone fainting.”

“I am not going to _faint_ , Mr. Grady.” Claire insisted.

The heat was agitating his girls, making them even more stubborn than normal. They weren’t listening to a thing he said, and he apologized to Claire. He promised there was usually more of a show to put on than this. She only stood there, scribbling on her clipboard with her pen.

She was halfway through one of her long-winded sentences regarding the potential effects of the inspection depending on the grade they received when she suddenly felt weak. Where she would normally have simply paused to take a breath and continue on, she felt her words escape her and her brain spun circles in her head. Her hand loosened, letting her pen fall to the ground below.

“Oh, not up here you don’t!” Owen called out, swooping in and picking her up like she weighed nothing at all. He bent her over his shoulder, and any energy she had to complain about being carried this way had already evaporated. Within seconds he’d rushed her off the thin platforms into one of the observation rooms on the upper level and dropped her in a chair. He whipped around the standing floor fan to face her and the last thing she remembered was him going to the mini fridge. What seemed like only a second later, he had a cloth-wrapped ice pack pressed to her forehead. He was on his knees in front of her, scanning her eyes as she came to.

It took much longer, that time, for first aid to respond and arrive at the remote paddock. In the time he spent guarding her in the tiny room he’d brought her to, he’d asked her all sorts of questions regarding what could have caused the fainting spells. It was only after he’d forced a glass of ice water into her hand and forced her to drink that she mentioned her recent switch in medication. 

Unfortunately, her pen had been dropped into the paddock, but her clipboard had survived with all of her notes and the team’s mediocre grade on it. Whoever needed to know that, however, never found out. She’d rewritten the whole thing and given their overall performance a little better mark than she had previously. She told herself it was only to give them more time to impress her under better circumstances, but she couldn’t completely deny that she was at least a little grateful that Owen hadn’t let her fall to her inevitable death. He’d saved her twice, and even once she’d sorted out her medication with her doctor and her fainting spells had passed, he didn’t hold it over her.

That was probably one of the reasons why when, months later, she found herself alone with the man again and finally thought to thank him, she’d agreed to go on a date with him. She was surprised he’d asked in the first place, but was intrigued by the notion. Her first impression of Owen hadn’t been the best, but recent events had started to change that. A date almost sounded nice. After all, as long as he didn’t wear board shorts or something similarly stupid, it would probably go alright.


	9. Power Games (Ft. Raptor Mom)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nobody really knows just how much Claire cared about the Raptors, too. And when she meets the cocky son of a bitch they hired to run the training program, she's not happy. He's arrogant, he's lewd, and he's perfectly matched with Claire on an intellectual level, which she probably hates the most. So they're stuck playing tug-of-war with dominance over each other, and it turns into a bit of a game for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter rated G

They were Claire’s babies, too. Not many people knew that. Reintroducing Velociraptors to the park was her idea, in the beginning. It was her job to oversee all of the assets in the park, and it was her job to make sure all of the guests were happy with them. Or, rather, scared by them.

Guest Satisfaction tended to flux naturally, but Claire knew right away when it started to dip that it wasn’t going to rise up again- at least not to level it’d been the last time they’d introduced a new asset. They were running out of options. Claire needed to scare the pants off of the guests, and she knew just the way to do it. Of course, after what happened the last time anyone got near a Velociraptor, all the higher-ups were understandably hesitant to entertain the notion. There was a reason they weren’t in the park already. She’d written a killer proposal and convinced enough board members that her project was finally given the Go Ahead.

“Training” was simply a word she’d tossed out in conversation. Just one idea of how the assets could be turned into an attraction. But Vic Hoskins heard it and ran. He ran right to his buddies in the military and before Claire could get all her ducks in a row regarding funding for her new project, he’d muscled it out from under her. He turned it into a fully-funded military experiment in training the raptors off-limits to the public. That wasn’t what she wanted. That wasn’t what she wanted _at all_.

And then they hired this cocky son of a bitch to run the training program – Owen Grady. She’d tried her best to scare him off in their initial consultation. In fact, he was the only applicant who didn’t go running at the mention of Velociraptors. He was actually intrigued by it. And he wasn’t at all turned off by her (admittedly impressive) intimidation tactics. If anything, he was turned on by them. But this guy is ex-military himself, and he’s damn good at his job. There was nothing she could do.

She was there when the eggs hatched, too. Owen was the only one in the room to ensure that they imprinted on him, but Claire was watching from behind a one-way mirror. She watched this man, this frustratingly self-confident man, greet each of the raptors as they broke out of their shells and actually start playing with them. He insisted they were beginning training games, getting them used to the sound of his voice, and he was establishing his dominance, but Claire drew the line when they began to nip at his outstretched finger.

She tapped on the glass, getting his attention. “Mr. Grady, these assets represent a significant financial investment on the part of Masrani Global. Could you kindly not feed yourself to them?”

Owen looked up at her and grinned. The glass had been treated with a special finish so that the raptors couldn’t see through it – couldn’t risk them imprinting on anyone other than Owen – but humans could. Her tap on the glass, though, had caught the attention of more than Mr. Grady. The four baby raptors turned at the sound, searching for the source. They tracked slowly to the window, unable to see Claire, and sniffed at the air. The blue one snapped her jaw towards the invisible Claire. She craned her neck to look down through the bottom of the window and eyed them cautiously. They kept sniffing the air, and Claire had the unnerving feeling that they could smell her, even through the window. Then Owen whistled, pulling their attention back onto him and all four sets of eyes obeyed. He grinned up at Claire again, but she only jotted a note down on her clipboard before turning to the InGen tech who had just stepped in to check on the progress.

“Can we get his blood tested? If they’re going to be ingesting it, I want to make sure he’s not carrying any pathogens that could be a danger to the assets.”

She stayed and watched for a while longer after that. It was amazing how quickly they took to Owen, and even followed some of his orders. They were born hunters, and after getting a small taste of their first meal, hand-fed to them by Owen, they tracked down the rest of the meal and devoured it. But their growth rate was extraordinary, and before long they were moved to the Paddock that had been built on the far side of the island, away from the guests. It was there that Owen finally decided on names for them all and the four of them eventually settled into what Owen called “pack order”.

She wasn’t fond of the names he’d given them, but it didn’t matter because (and so she’d told him) no one would get to see them, anyway. She was visiting the Paddock one day, ensuring operations were going as expected, and doing her usual power struggle with Owen. The sound of her voice must have attracted curiosity because she noticed, out of the corner of her eye, that there were eyes looking out at her from behind the bars of the heavy gate. She turned, gasping in shock, as Blue sniffed the air towards her once more. She looked straight at Claire, swishing her tail back and forth. The others weren’t far behind and joined her at the gate, all sniffing.

“Hey, look at that. They remember you.” Owen said.

“That’s…unnerving.” Claire said, eyeing them. It was difficult, with four different sets of eyes to keep track of. Owen reached out and gently pulled her by the arm.

“Hey, take a walk with me.” Owen led her along the wall of the Paddock until she was out of sight of the raptors, then called up to one of the men on the catwalk above. “Hey, keep an eye on them. See if they follow us.” He walked her halfway around the paddock, stopped, and walked a short ways back just to make sure. The man on the catwalk walked back to the edge and shouted down.

“Yeah, they’re definitely following you guys!”

“Huh.” Owen said. “I’m gonna stay here, you walk a little over that way. See if it’s my scent they’re following.”

Claire followed his instruction, walking a fair distance away from Owen, still along the wall of the paddock, unsure what she wanted the answer to be. On one hand, if they were able to track a scent with no sightline at this young an age, it was incredible. On the other hand, it was more than slightly disturbing.

“Yeah, they’re still following her!” The man called down.

“Okay, I’m done here. That’s it.” Claire said, tucking her files under her arm and returning to her car. 

That was the day she conceded defeat. There was no way of getting her project back, and Owen was doing too good of a job there anyway. She stopped going around the paddock unless she absolutely needed to, and whenever she had to track down Owen she tried to catch him at his Bungalow instead, which was only a ten minute walk (or a short excuse for a motorcycle ride) from the Paddock itself. Mr. Grady, consistently throughout their interactions, wore a constant air of superiority that annoyed her beyond belief. She was convinced that he took his job a little too seriously- a little too proud of his title, “Alpha”. He’d learned early on that the way to wear Claire down was to make her blush. He’d make some lewd joke or inappropriate comment and there she was, face flushing. She knew what he was doing, too, but she let him do it anyway. She’d begun to build up a resistance, and he was constantly trying to find a way to worm his way into her skin.

Owen may be the Alpha, but Claire’s the boss. These Power Games they played, whether they were butting heads over the Velociraptors or simply interacting on the job, had them matched. And maybe they enjoyed playing these games a little too much- the give and take of power, the one-upping, the intimidation. Others surely wondered why the hell they did it, and some wondered why there hadn’t been a harassment complaint filed yet, but in truth they both _loved it_. Never before had they ever been so well matched, so toe-to-toe, and always tied for first, with someone on their level. It was invigorating. So even after Claire had let go of the Velociraptor project and begun looking into the lab’s research on Hybrids, they played these games. At some point it crossed the line into straight-up flirting, but no matter what, they continued to play their little game of tug-of-war dominance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based off a headcannon of mine. Was supposed to be about the power games the two played, but turned into a bit of a Raptor Mom fic. Oh well!
> 
> BONUS GIF:  
> 
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> -GG


	10. Will You Be My Girlfriend?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Owen's relationship has always been a bit too complicated for something as simple and "boyfriend and girlfriend", but Claire thinks it's time to finally place a name to whatever it is they have. Owen doesn't seem to think it's that important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter rated G (warning for mild language)

Owen milled about the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner while Claire watched him absentmindedly from the other side of the room. Something her sister had said earlier in the day had thrown her off. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t heard already from strangers, and it certainly wasn’t a foreign thought in her own head – but hearing it from her sister had managed to solidify it in her frontal lobe.

“What are we doing here?” Claire asked. Owen turned to her, looking at her with a look of mild confusion.

“I’m soaking the dishes so we can do them later.” He answered, pointing to the sink.

“No, not that. I mean this. Us. What are we doing?”

“This again?” Owen said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Whatever the hell we want. Isn’t that the point?”

“But there has to be some sort of end game here, right?”

“Sure.” Owen said, turning back to the sink.

He’d spent nearly the entire day in the garage, tinkering with his new bike. He’d finally come in, hands covered in grease and a dopey grin on his face, and spent most of their meal waxing on about his precious motorcycle. He did that often- talked about how much he loved the feel of the open road when you could actually feel the wind on your face. The rumble of the engine, the thrum of the tires on the road. When he wasn’t at work, he was with his bike or with Claire. He was very hands-on. They spent much of their time in bed and he had very little shame regarding their sexual activities. But his love for his job made him an Animal Trainer. His love for his bike made him a rider. But his love for Claire? That, apparently, didn’t have a name.

In the beginning, putting labels like “girlfriend” and “boyfriend” on their relationship seemed too premature, and entirely too restrictive. Their reliance on one another in the early days reached much further than the typical dating couple would. Their relationship, whatever it was, involved far too many dependencies to be described as something so ordinary. But time had passed and things had changed and the issue had been nagging at Claire long before her sister started to. Was she Owen’s girlfriend?

“Okay, so shouldn’t we figure out what that is?”

“I don’t see why it’s important. What we have now is good. Why change it?”

“I’m not saying we should change anything – I just think we should put a name to it!”

“Is this because of what your sister said?” Owen turned to her, referencing the video chat earlier he’d walked in on during a water break. Karen was nosey. Always was, Claire said. So Owen had chalked it up to nothing more than typical sister-meddling when Karen had demanded of them if they were boyfriend and girlfriend or something else entirely, and if the latter was true, what the hell _that_ was.

“Why does this have to be about my sister? We should be attaching a name to this, and I don’t think that it should have anything do to with Karen, when-”

“Except that it does.” Owen cut in.

“When there’s clearly something here, for God’s sake! And it’s been there long enough now there should be a name for it! What even am I to you? What am I supposed to call myself?”

“I don’t care. Whatever you want.” Owen said, still fumbling with the dishes as Claire was stalking back and forth in the kitchen. His words stopped her dead, stuck mid-stride out of shock.

“You don’t care?” Claire asked.

“Nah. Doesn’t matter to me.”

Owen turned back to look at her when she didn’t answer, just in time to catch the broiling barrage of words all trying to come out of her mouth at the same time began to erupt like a volcano. She gestured wildly as the words flew out of her. Owen grabbed for a towel and dried his hands off as he tried to backpedal; trying to figure out where he’d said the wrong thing. Something that would set Claire off like this.

“Do you even care about anything? Something that doesn’t have wheels? What do I have to do to get you to give a damn! You won’t even talk to me about this-something that should be important to you! Am I your girlfriend? Your roommate? Or just some piece of ass to fuck?” Claire shouted, face red.

Owen abandoned the towel. He stepped forward, covering the distance between them in two strides and grabbed her face with both of his hands. Forced her to look at him so she wouldn’t miss his words. Not now that he’d discovered the reason she was so mad. The words he’d neglected to include.

“You are important to me.” Owen stressed, staring into her eyes. “I don’t care what you call yourself as long as you’re with me! Forget the bike, forget everything else! You are the most important thing in my life!” He yelled, still amped up from the tension that had since dissipated from the room. Claire only stood, quiet, looking at him as he spoke. His hands were beginning to shake but he kept them on Claire’s face, holding her close. “The world could go to shit tomorrow, I could lose everything I’ve ever had, and none of it would matter as long as I still have you! You’re the only thing that I can’t live without!”

“I love you and it scares me!” Claire said, suddenly. Her eyes were wet. “I’ve never had to rely on anyone for anything in my life, and sometimes when you’re not with me I feel like I can’t breathe!”

Owen closed to distance between them, cutting off anything else Claire had to say with a kiss. It was hard, deep, and rushed, but Claire wrapped her fingers around his hair, digging into him, and they couldn’t stop. When they finally ran out of air they pulled apart and Owen saw the tears rolling down Claire’s face. Now she looked more embarrassed than anything else.

“I mean it. I’m sorry. But I don’t care what you call yourself, because if all you wanted to be was my roommate I wouldn’t force you to be anything more! Even if all you were was my friendly neighbour who waves hello at me in the morning, I’d take anything I could get from you!” Owen pulled her closer, as close as he could get, and placed kisses to the side of her head. “And I’m sorry, because you deserved to know that.”

“I feel like an idiot. I’m sorry, this was stupid.” Claire said.

“No, no, no. Dramatic, maybe. But not stupid.” Owen said, eliciting a small smile from her. “It’s never stupid for you to need a reminder of how much I fucking love you, because it’s my fault I don’t say it enough.” He picked up her hand, which she’d dropped from his hair, and brought it to his lips. “Whatever you want to be to me, I’ll take it. Roommate, neighbour, whatever. But-” He kissed her hand, looking back into her eyes. “If you can still tolerate me, then I’d like to ask you a question.”

“Mmm Hmm?” Claire said, feeling how Owen’s beard tickled her knuckles as he continued to press kisses to her hand.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Owen said, grin spreading as he suddenly felt all high-schooler again. It was not a pleasant feeling. It got a tiny laugh out of Claire, and a smile that spread to her eyes. She leaned into him again, whispering a _‘Yes’_ just as her lips met his again.

“Dishes can be done later.” Claire said, her hands wandering. Message received. Owen picked her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. He carried her down the hall as her lips found his earlobe. She nipped at the shell of his ear and he struggled to remember how to stay upright. “And then you can show me just what being the girlfriend of Owen Grady gets me.”

“Oh, babe,” Owen said, hormones swimming in his head as Claire knew all of the right buttons to hit. “I think you’ll find there’s quite the _benefits package_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God damn these two need to work on expressing emotions properly. They're rather bad at it.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> -GG


	11. Shaving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen injures his hands, so Claire has to shave his face for him. Intimacy and fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter rated G.

She was perched on the edge of the bathroom counter top, legs dangling over the edge. Her face was screwed up in concentration and she payed no attention to anything around her as she carefully ran the sharp blade over Owen's skin. Owen, of course, preferred his barely-there beard, but agreed that for special occasions he would go clean shaven. There was a dinner and banquet later that night they were both expected to attend, and despite yesterday's setbacks Owen was prepared to go forward as planned. 

He stood as still as he could manage, watching every ounce of focus on Claire's face as she followed the curve of his jaw. There was something in Claire's eyes whenever she focused on something, but this was the first time Owen had the privilege of such an intense demonstration up-close. Unable to do much more than watch Claire’s eyes flit over his face, he took the time to take in that incredible shade of blue-green that always reminded him of water. Tropical shores with waves crashing on the sand. Lakes trimmed by lazy plants dancing in the breeze. His lagoon, back on the island, and afternoon swims to escape the midday heat. Adventure and travel on the high seas.

He was braced against the counter on either side of Claire, being careful to not put too much weight onto his hands. When he'd first injured them the blood had taken no hesitation in gushing everywhere, and his frantic run inside the house for something to sop it up that wasn't covered in grease had alarmed Claire more than he'd intended. She tried to convince him to cancel on the dinner, but in the 24 hours that had passed his hands were starting to look much better. The bandages, however, made it difficult to do intricate work like shaving. 

Which was where Claire came in. Her long, sleek dress hung on the closet door in their bedroom, and Claire sat before him nothing more than her undergarments. Her hair was tucked expertly behind her head, with only a few delicate curls allowed loose around her face. Her makeup was nearly complete, only awaiting the final swipe of red lipstick before they would head out the door in a little more than an hour. 

She was slow in her work, ensuring every pass of the blade hugged his skin just so. After every swipe of the blade she ran her delicate fingers over the skin. She ensured each stroke was clean before moving onto the next, which sometimes required more than one pass of her thumb. Her touch was intoxicating, and she was starting to lull him into a sort of trance with her steady sea green eyes and graceful fingers.

Her mouth quirked upward. "You're staring again."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Where was I supposed to look?" He said quietly, his lips barely moving so to not interfere with her work. 

Her smile widened. "It's just that when you stare at me like that, your next move is usually to kiss me. And I would like to remind you that I am currently holding a very sharp blade against your skin right now, so..." she paused her work to clean the shaving cream off the blade and looked him in the eye. "I would suggest not moving."

"If you say so." Owen said, tipping his head back when she indicated she was moving onto the underside of his chin. 

He could still picture her face from yesterday, when she first saw him clutching his bloody hands as he scrambled through the kitchen. He hadn't seen such a swift 180 on her for a long time, and there wasn't much he regretted in life more than frightening her like that. He would have to make up for it tonight, even though Claire insisted it was fine. He wanted to sweep her across the dance floor, the hem of that gorgeous dress of hers flowing around her beautiful heels, but he would have to wait to see how much he was capable of with his hands. 

Claire finished her last stroke, wiping the blade clean once more before examining her work. She'd left only his mustache, after their first discussion months ago on how much was appropriate to leave behind when he did shave. Claire had agreed that Owen just wouldn't look like Owen without it, and instead he kept it trimmed it so it looked neat. 

Once she'd handed him a clean towel, she set the blade down and reached for the hand mirror, still under Owen's watchful eyes. He made a quick wipe over his face to remove anything left behind.

"So? How does it look?" Claire asked. 

Owen threw the towel aside, placing an extra gentle hand on her back as he leaned in and captured her mouth in a kiss. She squeaked, leaning into him and abandoning the mirror Owen hadn't so much as glanced at. Her fingers came to his face, pressing against her smooth handiwork as she pulled him closer. He winced a little as he tried to grab onto her, just a bit too much work for his cuts to handle, and she broke away to look him in the eye.

"You okay?" She asked. When he nodded, she continued, "You sure you want to go to this dinner? We can still cancel."

“Oh, we’re going. I didn’t shave that off for nothing.” Owen said. Claire cocked a coy smile back at him in response. She pecked him once more on the lips before getting down off the counter. He tried to help her down, but found he was once again unable to do much with the bandages. Instead, he wrapped his arm around her as she slipped past him. As much as he knew that Claire’s dress would look stunning on her, he nearly called the whole thing off right there when he spotted Claire’s round little cheeks peeking out the bottom of her lace panties. Either way, Claire in her undress would be waiting for him when they got home, and in the meantime, Owen wanted a dance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW it's been a while since I updated. To be fair, I have a whole lot of snippets and chapters for this work I just don't think are good enough to post yet, so I hope you like this one! A brief, little intimate moment between these two that has nothing to do with sex. :) I thought it was cute. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> -GG


	12. Knock First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire accidently catches Owen going solo, and she has to decide if she's going to run away while she has the chance or take just a second longer to watch...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter rated E
> 
> Requested by Anon
> 
> Prompt: "Could you write a prompt about Claire walking into Owen jacking off ;)"

It must have been the third time this month. No, the fourth. It was the fourth time this month that Owen Grady, without a care to the repercussions to his career (or hers), hadn’t bothered to complete his paperwork. One of these days she would have to just let the time pass for him to be issued a formal warning instead of heading out to track him down and force a pen into his hand. Really, she should. Her hands clenched around the steering wheel just thinking about that stupid, smug face of his as he received not a visit from the woman he so loved to pester, but from one of the heads in InGen’s operations. He was, after all, contracted by InGen. He wasn’t even her employee. But time and time again, (and four times this month), she’d taken time out of her own schedule to remind him to complete it. And they were only two weeks into the month.

Claire only had about seventeen thousand things to do, and in terms of importance, facing off with Owen Grady wasn’t a high priority. She’d already tried the Raptor Paddock. No luck, as Barry imformed her. Owen had already left for the weekend with apparently no plans to do anything about his paperwork. So now she had to drive all the way out to his bungalow since she’d already started it. She couldn’t stop now.

Well, maybe she could’ve before she made the trek out. But now her wheels were turning off the dirt road onto the patch of land Owen had claimed for himself and his…mess. Claire groaned, tipping her head against the headrest. He wasn’t outside, which meant she would have to knock. She was hoping to find him outside, probably tinkering on his bike. Deliver the paperwork and be on her way. Get this over and done with as fast as possible. The last time she’d found him inside his bungalow he’d spent more time trying to convince her to come inside and sit down than he did completing the actual paperwork. But not today. In and out. Claire just didn’t have the time.

Clipboard under her arm, she reached the top step and was about to rap her knuckles on the man’s door when she noticed it was cracked open just the smallest amount. Then she heard a voice from inside, undeniably Owen’s, say her name. She hesitated, hand hovering just over the surface of the door, waiting to see what lame excuse for a pick up line he had for her today.

“Oh, fuck.” Owen moaned. Claire froze. That couldn’t be what she thought it was. Not a chance. Certainly, everything that seemed to come out of that man’s mouth sounded inherently sexual. So that didn’t mean that what she heard was what she thought it was, did it?  
Claire leaned towards the crack in the door, peering inside. She half expected him to be in his kitchen, eating dinner. Or in front of his TV playing video games. And yet, when she instead saw him sitting on the couch, with his pants pulled down his thighs she was only about ninety percent surprised.

Owen’s eyes were firmly shut. His head was tipped back and he let out another low, deep groan that sent Claire’s heartbeat soaring. Her eyes fell to where he had a firm grip around his cock, standing proud. He was rubbing long, strong strokes down the length of his erection and he appeared to have been at it already for some time. His body was tense. She could see all his muscles flexing. His breathing was heavy and she could see a flush over his skin underneath that deep tan of his. 

Claire’s heart was in her throat. This was something she was not supposed to see. This was something she was not supposed to _watch_. But with each heavy heartbeat that passed and each stroke along Owen’s impressive cock she found it harder and harder to avert her eyes. Like watching a car crash, she supposed. Except this was a car crash she felt herself wanting to participate in. There was a way that Owen’s hand focused on the tip, rubbing his thumb along the sensitive head, which was tender and erotic at the same time. She could see a little bead of precum form, before Owen’s thumb returned to spread it out. It made her wonder just how it felt to have that cock in her hands. If those were her fingers wrapped around his dick, feeling every twitch and pulse with each stroke.

“Claire…” He whimpered, far off in his fantasy. It made her skin tingle with the way he said that. So full of need and wanting. Owen Grady was fantasizing about her. That definitely made her feel better about wanting to watch him, just the tiniest bit. A voice in the back of her head was screaming at her to run before she was caught. But now that he was clearly coming close, she didn’t want to miss out on the big finale. She pushed all the other thoughts down, for her to sort out later, and held her breath as he strained his neck further, arching his back as he pumped his hand harder. “Oh, fuck!”

His hips thrusted as he came, white fluid arcing into the air and gushing over his hand. He pumped himself a few more times, spreading the mess haphazardly as he came back down to rest on the couch. Claire must have leaned too far forward, because her outstretched hand suddenly made contact with the door and pushed it open a few inches. Owen’s eyes flew open just as Claire felt her face catch fire and she stumbled back from the now visibly open door.

“Oh my god.” Claire said, retreating down the porch. Inside, Owen scrambled to cover himself with a blanket while he worked on pulling his pants back up.

“Shit…” Owen muttered, crashing his way from the couch to the door. Claire dropped her clipboard, turning to run down the porch steps back towards her car.

“Oh my god.”

“Claire! I’m sorry…”

“Oh my god.”

“You weren’t supposed to see that…”

“Oh my god.”

“…I didn’t hear your car pull up!”

“Oh my god.” Claire fumbled for her keys.

“You really should have knocked first.” Owen said, attempting something lighthearted.

“Oh my god!” Claire said, reaching for the door handle. Her heart was racing, even harder than before. _Did he know she was watching?_

“I’m sorry, I- how long were you there?” He said with a fake laugh.

Claire whipped her head around, eyes wide.

“What? No! I didn’t mean it like that-!” Owen said, “Of course you weren’t-I just meant…you didn’t hear anything?” Owen was sweating, running a hand through his hair nervously. “Did you?”

He didn’t know. At least she had that. She pulled open her car door, flinging herself into the seat and the door shut behind her.

“Please don’t fire me…” Owen whimpered.

Claire turned the key in the ignition. Owen was too preoccupied with his worry to even think Claire had been intentionally watching him. If she just walked away now, they could sweep this whole thing under the rug. She could pretend that she hadn’t been peeping and he could pretend that he hadn’t said anything so…incriminating.

“Paperwork complete by Monday morning. If you turn it in late again, I’m not going to come hunting you down for it.” Claire said through her open window, punching the gas. “Keep the clipboard.” She added with a cringe. She peeled through the grass around Owen, circling back to the road as he leaned down to rest his palms on his knees, letting out an aggressively deep sigh of relief.

She only got half a mile down the road before she had to pull off to the side and wonder what the hell she’d just done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was such an open-ended request I had a hard time deciding what to do! Hope you like it.
> 
> -GG


	13. The Grocery Store

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen gets handsy in the grocery store.
> 
> This chapter rated G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I haven't updated in a long time. I've been in a funk and this is my attempt to get out of it. It's not much but it's something.

The grocery cart was nearing full. There were stacks of tins, a pile of bags, and all sorts of boxes piled up in their cart and yet somehow Claire wasn’t even halfway through her list. It must have had something to do with Owen’s constant distractions. She was guiding the cart through the aisles, checking off each item one by one on her list and watching as Owen’s contributions to the cart outnumbered hers. 

He returned with the item in hand Claire had directed him to retrieve and two more of his own interest, finding space for them in the fast-filling cart. He waited for her next instruction. She brought the cart to a stop, scanning her eyes over the list. He took the opportunity to sneak up behind her and rest his chin on top of her head. She didn’t pull away, rather just shook her head the smallest amount.

Owen had a soft spot in his heart for Claire’s shoe collection. He couldn’t deny how well her heels accented what was one of her best features in his mind. But there was something special about her being the perfect height without them to fit so nicely under his chin. The perfect resting spot. And she tended not to complain, when she was so close to him, usually in his embrace, and always under his protection. 

He wrapped his arms around her, snuggling her in close to his body. She chuckled a little. He swayed them side to side a bit, just enough to get her shifting from foot to foot in time with him.

“You know, we should have a barbeque next week. Invite everyone over…” He suggested playfully, nuzzling into her hair and probably mussing it.

“Oh, yeah. With that barbeque we don’t have…sounds fun.” Claire retorted.

“Hey Claire,” Owen started again, “we should get a barbeque.”

Claire snorted. “Let’s just get through this week’s groceries, okay? We need to go to frozen food next…” Claire muttered, triple-checking her list to confirm. Owen braced his arms on either side of her, hands on the shopping cart to give it the first push to get going. She brought her eyes up from the list in her hand, and before she could step forward out from under his chin, he planted a kiss to the top of her head.

“Oh! Wait, can you get me…that one?” Claire asked, pointing to the tallest shelf. Owen obliged, barely stretching to reach the item Claire wouldn’t have had a chance at getting, even on her tippy toes. He returned to her with it, giving her right butt cheek a gentle but firm squeeze as he dropped it in the basket. A red blush crept up Claire’s face and she swatted his hand away, checking over her shoulder.

“Owen!”

“What?” He asked, trailing a finger over her cheek to turn her face up towards his. He pecked her on the lips. “Frozen foods, right? And then we can go-”

“Yup.” Claire interrupted.

“-go look at barbeques?” Owen finished, eliciting a scoff from Claire. She rolled her eyes, starting forward with the cart and leaving Owen to catch up. “I’m just sayin’, babe. I make a mean steak.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! A comment or kudos is always appreciated, and lets me know you guys enjoy my work!  
> -GG


	14. Happy Anniversary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Anniversary vacation Claire planned isn't going as expected...so Claire takes *it* into her own hands...on the beach...where anyone could see them. Later, Owen returns the favor in the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter rated E
> 
> Requested by Anon
> 
> Prompt: "could you write a prompt of Claire jerking owen off in public and owen doing the same for Claire (different occasions)"

The sun had barely risen over the horizon and the beach was empty. The only sound was the rush of the waves and the occasional caw of the seagulls flying overhead. There was something calm about white sand at sunrise, something that Claire couldn’t quite put her finger on. Maybe it was because the “quiet, secluded” vacation spot she’d chosen for their anniversary wasn’t exactly very quiet when all the beachgoers arrived every day like clockwork. Then a sea of umbrellas would pop up, with all sorts of music and shouting echoing through the little rental beach house she thought was going to be perfect.

At least Owen seemed to like it. And Claire had to admit, as early in the morning as it was, it had a beautiful view. Their two trails of footprints were the only ones in the sand, and that alone made it more romantic than Claire could have thought. But she knew in less than an hour the place would be overrun and half the magic would be lost.

Owen stopped to admire the view by an outcropping of weathered rocks, pulling Claire in close. “I’m sorry.” Claire said with a sigh as his arms and all the warmth that came from being held in them settled into her.

Owen turned to look at her, curious. “Why?”

“This was supposed to be a romantic getaway…but the only time we can get any peace and quiet is at the crack of dawn…” She yawned, missing her bed.

“Hey,” he said as he turned her face towards him, “I don’t need anything but you to make this romantic, okay?”

Claire kissed him, slow and deep. She had a shawl wrapped around her shoulders to ward off the early morning chill and she loosened it just a bit. The sun was warm on her skin and she wanted to enjoy as much of it as possible while she had the chance.

Owen turned and sat down on the rocks behind him, inviting Claire to join him. She sat on the edge, feeling the cool stone against her skin. She took another breath of the salt water in the air, feeling the damp sand squish between her toes. Owen had lost some of the rich, sun kissed colour in his skin since they’d left the island, but in this early morning light he was glowing.

Claire was happy for the first time in a long time. Sure, her new life with Owen was fantastic even though it was scary at times, and learning to adjust to her new normal was easier with him than without, but she hadn’t felt this completely content and at peace in a long time. She wanted to make it last, to kick up the romance a bit before they lost their chance. Before they were sucked back into the real world again.

Owen’s hair was still ruffled from his pillow. It was only a few minutes ago they’d gotten out of bed to enjoy the beach on their own. And Owen still hadn’t lost his morning wood, she noticed, when she glanced down. They were still alone on the beach, with just the crash of the waves around them. She leaned in to plant a kiss on his cheek, her fingers moving to his shorts unnoticed until he jolted from the unexpected contact.

“What are you doing?” He asked, inquisitively. She grinned, corners of her mouth stretching up against his as she tried to maneuver her fingers around the material of his shorts. He inhaled sharply as she made skin contact, his hand finding her wrist. “Claire, there are people-”

Claire shook her head. “No there aren’t. Not yet, at least.” She kissed her way over to his ear, nipping gently at his lobe. “We have the beach all to ourselves…”

Owen sucked in a breath, leaning into Claire. He released her hand. She stroked him slowly, finding the resistance unforgiving. She paused to run her tongue over her palm, coating it with saliva before returning to work. Owen groaned, deep and low in his throat when she ran her hand over him again. Much better.

She scooted forward to get a better angle, still close enough to feel the heat radiating off his skin and hear his every breath. His arm snaked around her back, winding into her hair to hold her in place against him.

Her grip was loose around his cock. She worked in long, languid strokes, covering his entire length with each one. Her tongue repeatedly flicked at his earlobe in between her sucking on the flesh of his neck. He turned his face into her, burrowing into her hair and inhaling her scent.

“You are so bad…” He moaned into her ear, hand flexing against her head.

“I thought you liked that?”

Her motions soon linked up with the rythym of the waves, each crash on the sane underneath their toes in time with the shock that came from Claire’s fingers grazing his sensitive head. It was beginning to hypnotize him in a way that almost made the arrival of the first beachgoers escape his notice. Almost.

His head shot up when their umbrella opened, and he turned just in time to see them push it into the sand. Claire didn’t skip a beat, simply laying her shawl over Owen’s lap to conceal what they were up to and buy them the remaining time they needed. He turned back to her, eyes wide, marveling at the continued stimulation. There were _people_ just a dozen yards away. People who could be watching them. Judging them. This was illegal, he tried to remind himself. _This was so wrong_.

But it felt so right. His hand found her wrist again. He kept a loose grip as the first grunt escaped his lips. She captured his with her soft mouth, swallowing all the noises he made when he was coming close to release. His fingers twitched, both wanting to grip onto something and not wanting to stop Claire’s motions.

Her tongue slipped past his as she wrung her hand over his tip again, the final straw that caused Owen to come, spilling over her fingers and panting into her mouth. He gripped her closer to him, kissing her harder and longer. When they pulled apart her cheeks were flushed with excitement. She let go of his softening cock, leaving behind the mess in his shorts and trying not to get the come on her hand all over herself. She hastily bundled the shawl back around herself, and with one final glance to the shining horizon they scampered through the still sparse beach bums back to their cabin.

\--

The vacation had gone better than Claire had feared it would, and part of her still couldn’t believe what they’d done on the beach. But in the very least she had a whole new answer to “What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?”

All they had to fight now was the traffic back into the city. The A/C was blowing into the car, trying to cool Claire’s searing skin. What didn’t help was that Owen, with one hand on the steering wheel, had his other firmly planted against the bare skin of her thigh. There was nothing unusual about the little circles he drew into her skin with his thumb, or the proximity of his rough skin to the edge of her shorts. He seemed to do it sometimes without even thinking. He craved contact with Claire. Even when he maybe should have been more focused on other things, like driving.

The light ahead turned amber, and Owen brought the car to a gentle stop as Claire ran her hand through the hair on Owen’s possessive arm. He turned to her and smirked. She couldn’t see his eyes through his sunglasses, but sensed mirth and a touch of mischief twinkling behind them.

His fingers trailed along her skin, brushing against the material of her shorts and tickling the skin underneath. One finger slipped through the leg hole, just enough to tease against the fabric of her panties. She clenched her hands around Owen’s arm.

“And just what do you think you’re doing down there?” Claire asked, cocking an eyebrow behind her own sunglasses.

Owen teased her again, sending a flutter up her spine. “Oh, I think you know. You know what they say about sweet, sweet revenge…” Owen trailed off, pressing the pad of his finger into her flesh. He smiled at the gasp she left loose before snapping her mouth back shut.

The light turned green again and Owen’s focus returned to the road. His hand came back out to rest casually on her thigh once more as if nothing had happened and they passed through a couple more intersections before encountering their next red light. As soon as the car rolled to a stop Owen turned back to her, fingers shooting straight to the button of her shorts, loosening it just enough to slip his hand inside. Claire stiffened in her seat and tried to keep a straight face.

“Are you crazy?”

“A little bit.”

Owen flicked at her clit, finding with some amusement that his earlier prodding had produced just enough of Claire’s wetness to make it an easy glide through her folds. She breathed heavily through her nose, glancing out the window to check who could be watching them. Her hands were still firmly wrapped around Owen’s arm and she didn’t do a thing to try and stop him.

When the light changed Owen once again returned his focus to the road and she huffed. She couldn’t in her right mind ask him to stop what he was doing or sacrifice some of his attention, but found herself rooting for a red all the way down the road. Each time, his fingers zeroed in on her sweet spot, picking up where he left off with just enough intensity to remind her why she wasn’t going to stop him. He used two fingers, gliding them down as far as he could reach and slipping his fingertips inside of her. The angle wasn’t great and he couldn’t reach very far, but his fingers were sufficiently slick when he had to retreat again, slapping his hand back down onto her thigh.

Claire groaned with frustration. He was now massaging his hand into the meat of her thigh, a silent apology and persistent tease all at once. She whined as they passed under the third green light. “I hate you.”

“Hey,” Owen said, without taking his eyes from the windshield, “I can stop!” He threw his hand in the air, pulling away for the first time.

“Don’t you dare!” Claire said, pulling his hand back to her skin. He smirked.

She directed his hand back to her centre when the light turned at the last second on them, Owen bringing the car to a harsh stop when he could’ve easily made it through. He set back to work, intent on giving Claire her release before they had to get moving again. She was breathing hard, and making a pointed effort not to show any physical sign of her arousal that could be seen through her window. The driver in the car next to them didn’t seem to notice them, much to Claire’s appreciation, but it wasn’t enough. She needed release. So Owen rolled the pad of his finger over her clit in small circles, covering it in unrelenting stimulation until Claire shouted, back arching in her seat and legs snapping shut around his hand. He was trapped between her thighs as her thighs quivered around him. She pressed her lips shut so her moans came out muffled. The left turn lane got the light first, so Owen took his last few seconds to lean over the console and press a kiss to Claire’s cheek.

“There’s my girl.” He praised as she tipped her chin down to look at him over her sunglasses. Her chest rose and fell in waves, her breath hot. “Now we’re even.”

Claire’s thighs were still twitching in the afterglow. She bore holes into the side of his head with her eyes, pupils blown and only one thing on her mind. “Home. Now.”

Owen smirked. He didn’t need to be told. He was hard in his pants already. “Yes Ma’am.”


	15. Honest Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the newest trailer for Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom, Claire and Owen have an honest conversation about why they split up and where they've ended up since. This is my way of trying to survive the next six months knowing only that my babes aren't together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter rated G with warnings for feels.

Claire threw a dissatisfied glare over her shoulder at Owen, his latest snide remark about her sex life smirking up the corner of his lips. In front of them, the animal they were trying to put to sleep reared its head, startling everyone who had turned their attentions towards him. They scrambled to restrain the drugged up animal once more.

“That’s it.” Claire turned on her heel. “You. Bush. Now.” She pointed at Owen after demonstrating which bush she was referring to, slightly out of the way but close enough she could still keep an eye on the delicate operation they were performing. With only slight hesitation, Owen followed her.

She huffed at his slow defiant strut to where she was standing and waiting to tell him off. “Why behind the bush?”

“Because it gives a semblance of privacy,” Claire explained, looking back over to where her team was working and raising her voice so she knew they could hear. “And it makes everyone feel bad for eavesdropping!” When everyone had returned their focus to the now sleeping animal, she turned back to Owen. “What is wrong with you? Are you _trying_ to jeopardize this mission?”

He hadn’t seemed too eager when she’d come to him to offer him a spot. In fact, that had only been the beginning of the jokes and comments about who she may or may not be dating and whether or not she was enjoying it. She was getting tired of it.

“Why would I do something like that?”

“Owen, listen to me. Our relationship status is _irrelevant_. Do you hear me? Right now, it doesn’t matter. We are here for one thing only, and the longer you roll this _comedy routine_ out, the more the members of this team are distracted from their jobs.”

“You know, it would stop if you just answered the question.” Owen said, aggravating her further. He’d never asked the question. Not directly.

“You know what? Fine. Blame me for thinking you would be able and willing to focus on the _task at hand_ instead of acting like a child. If you want to talk about this, _fine_. Let’s talk about it! Like normal adults. Ask me out to coffee sometime instead of making me hunt you down in some dive bar, for god’s sake. But the time to talk about this is not here and not now. Do you understand me?”

Owen simmered at her tone, finally shutting that mouth of his and keeping it closed. He acknowledged her with a simple nod.

“Good. Because I am done with this alpha-dominance thing! You want to mark your territory? Then find a tree. Until then, I expect you to work. And focus. That’s an order!”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Owen smirked again, and she could swear smoke was coming out of her ears because there was no way she was _blushing_. She couldn’t help but feel all of his button-pressing jokes had gotten very nearly what he’d been aiming for.

“Oh, shut up.” Claire spat, turning back towards the team. “I said I was willing to talk. Get over yourself.”

\---

There were too many animals. Certainly too many for one day, and Claire was beginning to worry they still wouldn’t have enough time in the days ahead to save them all. That was the one thing she’d come back here to do – save the animals. What if she couldn’t do it? What if she failed? Again?

The night was chillier than Claire remembered nights being on the island. One whole day gone, and her team had taken a much deserved break to rest for the night. The work would only pick right back up the next morning. She should probably be getting some rest, too, but she found that she just couldn’t fall asleep. Not when she was back here. The place she’d lived for so many years.

She wasn’t officially on watch, and she couldn’t recall who was supposed to be, but she knew that it wasn’t Owen. Despite that, he was striding towards her, hands in his pockets, and more than a day’s weariness on his face. She wasn’t proud of her outburst earlier, but it had gotten the job done. Owen shut up and got to work. But she could tell that part of him still wasn’t there. Part of him that was important, but she hadn’t seen for quite some time.

“Hey.” He extended the greeting first, testing the waters. She met his eyes in the darkness. He stopped in his tracks and waited for her to respond.

“Hey.” She said flatly.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Owen took another step forward towards the tree she was sitting against, leaning his arm casually against the trunk.

“Can’t.”

A moment of silence hung in between them. Without looking, she could tell Owen was running a hand over his beard. “I’m sorry, but, uh…I don’t think we have any coffee…”  
She dared to glance up at him. Just as she thought. “This isn’t what I meant when I said ‘later’, you know.” Claire retorted. Of course. He wanted to talk.

“Yeah, I know. But unless you can think of another topic, we’re going to talk about it, because it’s the first thing on my mind right now.”  
Owen shifted, taking a seat across from her, looking over the same valley she was. She sighed, letting him settle.

“You look good.” Owen said, finally. The light from her single lantern was barely enough to make out shapes around her, but even in the dark she could see how _tired_ he looked. His stubbly beard that even she could tell he’d let grow out from neglect. The shadows around his eyes. And the flat line of his mouth, only ever pressed into a fake smile when he made one of his jokes. Not to mention his too-often humor that only took shots at himself. And sure, since she’d seen him last she’d gotten her life back together, gotten back to work, and seen a little sun. But compared to him she, _‘looked good’_.

“You don’t.” Claire wasn’t trying to be mean. She knew as good as anyone that when someone was hurting, they’d say they were fine. And people would tell them they were fine. And everyone would say everything was fine until ‘fine’ just felt like numbness and you couldn’t use any other word to describe it.

“I’m fine.” Owen said, low in his throat, turning his head towards the valley. Off in the distance, a Brachiosaurus roared, ripping the greens off the nearest tree and devouring it seemingly without care. Did the animals know, she wondered? Wildlife would get spooked by an impending earthquake, she’d heard. Would an erupting volcano be any different? Would the dinosaurs know what kind of danger they were in before it was already upon them? Her heart ached at the sight of the huge creature before her. It was her greatest fear, and yet she already knew. The Brachiosaurus were too big. There was no way they could possibly transport them. They couldn’t rescue them. She couldn’t save them all.

As the giant painful reminder wandered off out of sight, the silence seemed to break Owen. “So…”

“So.”

“That kid with the glasses…he a _close_ friend?”

Claire’s face fell flat. “Oh my God. Seriously?” Owen turned to her. “That’s what this has all been about? All this macho-masculinity because you’re threated by a kid _ten years_ younger than me who I happen to be friends with?”

“Fourteen years.” A small voice said in the distant light of camp. Claire rolled her head over her shoulders towards the noise.

“Privacy is a foreign concept to these people.”

“It hasn’t _all_ been about that.” Owen sighed, choosing to ignore the interlope. “I just…don’t know how to ask. It’s been…a while. Since I saw you. Last.”

“Fine. You want to talk about this? Honestly?”

“Yes.”

“Then ask. Don’t joke. Just ask.”

Owen took a breath. “Have you been dating anyone?”

“There was…one date. With one guy. And it was…a disaster.”

“Everything go wrong?” Owen cocked an eyebrow, clearly remembering their train wreck of a first date. The misguided wardrobe decisions. The crowded and noisy venue. The less than preferential menu. The itinerary.

“No. In fact, everything went right. He said all the right things…took me to a nice restaurant…ordered a nice bottle of wine…we talked a lot about work…”

“So what made it so bad?”

Claire huffed. “I was bored out of my mind.” Owen barked out a laugh. “Honestly! The entire night was so mind-numbingly boring…I don’t even remember his name. Doesn’t matter anyway. It was right before I started travelling. With the DPG.”

“Hell of a thing you did.” Owen looked over the dark silhouette of camp. All of the tech and supplies and manpower Claire had put together. All for one purpose. The Dinosaur Protection Group. The name had quite the ring to it. “Really, I mean it. Every time I think you can’t possibly do it again…you always manage to impress the hell out of me.”

“It’s really not that impressive.”

“Yeah it is. After everything that happened. You just turn around and do…all of this.” There it was, that sadness in his eyes. “Without me.”

Claire froze. She looked Owen in the side of his face until he turned to her. “Without you? Owen, everything here is _because_ of you. Do you honestly think that five years ago I would’ve done half of this?” Owen didn’t respond. “I already know the answer, Owen. You can just say it.”

“No,” He cringed.

“Exactly. Look, whether you meant to or not, Owen, you changed the way I look at…everything. After the Incident, I…I lost everything. My…my home, my belongings…my livelihood. Masrani hired me right out of college. My entire career…ten years of my life! Just…gone. Overnight. I had _nothing_ ,” Claire breathed. “Except for you.”

Owen felt his heart skip a beat.

“You were the only constant thing after that,” Claire continued. “You were always there for me. And I needed that. More than I could admit. Because I felt at least if I was going to fall apart you would be there to pick up the pieces. That someone actually cared about me for the first time in a long time.” She breathed, hard. Tears hung at the edges of her eyes. “And if you think it was easy for me to walk away from that…” She rasped, mouth dry, and she gulped the last of her words down.

“Then why did you?” He whispered. If her heart hadn’t already broken, it would’ve just then.

“I had to accept that we were on different paths, Owen. And the only way to stay with you would’ve been to stay… _stuck_ …in that same spot…forever. And I had to move forward. Even if it was without you.” A tear escaped, marking a trail down her cheek that seemed to suck the cold air to her skin. “But I _promise_ you that the only reason I ever found this path was _because of you_.”

Owen sniffed, despite the fact that she hadn’t seen him cry even the slightest bit. “Well…then…I’m glad that our paths got to cross again. Even if it’s just for a short time.”

Claire nodded. “Me too.” She sniffed also, and then silence fell between them once more. Across the valley, another melancholy roar echoed through the trees from some creature they couldn’t see. They sat and listened for a while, just listening to the sounds of the night and watching the stars twinkle like no stars over city lights ever could. Despite the time away, somehow this island still felt like home.

“Do you remember the first time you saw a dinosaur?” She breathed, waiting for the sight of one to bob up above the tree tops.

Owen breathed through his nose, short and quick, and nearly like a laugh. “Yeah. It was so big…” He raised his hands halfway in the air, miming holding something that he saw in his mind. “And then…she was so small…”

His breath caught, and he couldn’t say anything more. A whole day passed and he still hadn’t found her. Still hadn’t found proof that’s she was, in fact, still alive. Half of his nerves had been over her alone. And they still hadn’t settled.

“We’ll find her,” Claire promised, “Tomorrow. I owe you that, at least.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY THERE JURASSIC FANDOM IT'S BEEN A WHILE. How do you guys like our new zombie fandom? 'Cause it's rising up from the dead...and this trailer has me #dying. I know everything will work out in the end, and their "paths" will link back up, but it just makes me sad they had to split apart when they obviously became so close. And I'm sad they have to go through all this crap again just to reunite.
> 
> For some reason I keep imagining Claire being angry at Owen's whiny man-baby attitude he was displaying in the trailer, but she was obviously showing some serious patience in the same scene, so I know I'm exagerating things. But he seriously better get over that quick because I don't want Claire sticking around a whiny man-baby, Owen or not. She deserves better. (Don't get me wrong, the man is clearly depressed and using his usual brand of humor to mask it, but he's not allowed to take it out on her. God Bless Chris Pratt and the amazing acting he can get across in nothing more than his facial expressions. When he says 'I know why we're here', you can just FEEL his sadness. And then again when he says to Blue, 'you know me'. He's still sad but it's different. There's a desperation. All I'm saying is Thank You for Chris Pratt.)
> 
> Hopefully I'll start writing now that the fandom has resurrected. It's hard to contribute when you get nothing in return, but I've started to see some activity already. Who else is excited for June??!?!
> 
> -GG


	16. Technical Malfunctions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen discovers Zia and Claire halfway through pranking Franklin, and can't help but join in. (No spoilers for Fallen Kingdom!!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated: G for pure lighthearted comedy
> 
> (Post-Fallen Kingdom NO SPOILERS!)

The sound of stifled laughter drew Owen into the office. There was no mistaking it, either. Claire’s laugh was the most distinctive one he’d ever heard- he’d know it in a crowd a thousand deep. And even as strangely quiet-muffled?-as it was now, he knew it to be Claire’s. 

So he wasn’t terribly surprised when he passed through the doorway and found both Claire and Zia hovering in front of a computer screen, snickering. Only problem was- it was Franklin’s computer. And Franklin wasn’t in the room.

“What’s going on?” Owen asked, only to have both women turn around and shush him, mid laugh. Claire waved him over so he could see for himself- on one screen was the security cam feed. Franklin was downstairs, plugged into one of the containment door panels and typing away into his handheld. The door was open, and despite the fact that the security cams weren’t transmitting audio, Owen could tell Franklin was muttering under his breath. One the other screen was a command prompt – “MANUAL OVERRIDE – DOOR 6A”.

“The door’s programming went haywire this morning,” Zia whispered over her shoulder. “It was opening by itself, so Franklin went down there to reset it. This window-” Zia pointed to the set of OPEN / CLOSE buttons on the opposite screen. “Popped up right after.” On the feed, Franklin looked up from his screen, punched a button on his handheld, and watched the door successfully close. Claire’s hand was already on the mouse. She clicked the DOOR OPEN button. On screen, Franklin stared aghast as the door slid open once again.

“It’s been like, twenty minutes now,” Zia wheezed, laughter escaping her, “and he still hasn’t figured out what’s going on!”

Claire was holding her middle with one hand, and covering her mouth with the other. Owen leaned back, settling his shoulders. This wasn’t exactly what he thought time working with the DPG would be like. Helping dinosaurs, sure. Saving the world, probably. Pranking the IT guy? Not so much. 

There was no doubt in his mind that Zia had been the one who started it. Claire had probably walked in on her, and instead of doing the managerial thing and putting a stop to it, had been overcome by the urge to join in. Something about that made Owen inexplicably happy. It wasn’t often that Claire truly let loose, or let herself have fun. She didn’t let that guard down often- and he couldn’t help but be grateful that Zia was around to do that for her.

Problem was- Claire’s laugh threatened to give everything away. Zia seemed to understand this, and would give a gentle little shush to Claire, in between her own quiet chuckles. And the way they laughed together just spurred each other on.

When Franklin closed the door again, Zia only waited until the door was halfway closed before hitting OPEN again.

“You mean to tell me,” Owen leaned in again, hand on Claire’s shoulder as she tried to suck in her breath, “That he left his computer unlocked around you two, and doesn’t suspect any fowl play?” All Claire could do was shake her head _No_. 

Franklin hit the button to close the door, but Zia opened it again before it’d even had the chance to move an inch. And then again. Again. Again. Until Franklin, grunting in frustration loud enough they could hear it through the floor, shot up to his feet. He unplugged some of his wires, blew some air on them for good measure, and then plugged them back in.

Claire was leaning all the way over onto Zia’s shoulder, absolutely losing her shit in the quietest way she could manage. _God, these two_. Owen thought. _Where did Claire find these friends of hers?_

“Hey, let me try one.” Owen moved for the mouse, waiting. Franklin hit the button. The door slid shut. Silence. Zia turned to him, muttering a _‘what are you doing?’_ Owen merely shook his head. Claire grabbed for his hand, still on her shoulder, out of wide-eyed anticipation. Franklin waited. Checked his handheld. Watched the door. Nothing moved. The door remained closed. Franklin ran a hand over his forehead. He picked up his radio, fumbling it between his two hands already occupied by the tablet. One of the radios on the desk behind them crackled through with Franklin’s voice, sounding surprisingly triumphant.

“Hey, guys, I think I finally figured out-”

Owen clicked the button.

“OH COME ON!” Franklin slammed the radio down, watching the door open right before his eyes. 

Claire’s entire body was convulsing with laughter, and Owen had to throw both of his hands over her mouth to cover it, pressing her backwards into his chest, in an effort to contain her sound. She leaned into him, her entire body shaking. He couldn’t help but laugh silently himself, watching Franklin pace the hallway. It wasn’t any ordinary contagious laughter, Claire’s. It was something more than that – a warm feeling, almost like fireworks exploding in his chest whenever he heard it. She grabbed onto his arms, wrapped tight around her, as they both rattled in laughter. God, was it good to laugh with Claire again.

On the feed, Franklin stormed back towards the stairs to the office. They all scrambled, Zia rolling her chair back to her own station, and Claire jumping from the chair she’d taken from Franklin’s. Owen stopped the chair spinning around as Claire exited, joining her at the coffee station pretending like nothing had happened, just in the nick of time as Franklin appeared in the room.

“I think I need some different kind of-” Franklin stopped in his tracks once he’d laid eyes on his computer screen. “How long has that prompt been up?” He turned, waiting for a response from one of them in the room. Owen kept a hand on Claire’s back, as she held a mug of coffee up to her lips, trying to stop herself from making even the tiniest sound. 

Franklin turned to Zia. “Oh, uh- I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Zia waved him off with a hand, leaning hard on her chair arm. Owen gave a squeeze to Claire, who he could tell was about to burst.

“Wha- wait a second. Were you-?” Franklin paused, and even Zia had to turn away. “WERE YOU GUYS DOING THAT TO ME?”

Claire couldn’t hold herself in any longer. She threw her head back, landing on Owen’s shoulder as laughter burst from her. Owen half turned, giving Franklin a guilty smile.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! This was all just a joke?”

“I mean…the door _was_ broken. The first reset did the trick, dude. We just decided not to tell you.” Zia smiled.

“You guys are terrible!” Franklin locked his computer and stormed out of the room, as Claire was stamping her foot on the ground and clutching her stomach from what must have been- at this point-some pretty intense laughter cramps.

“Franklin,” Claire managed to squeak out. “We love you!” 

Franklin glanced their way, just in time to see Owen make a heart shape in his hands. Franklin shook his head and shouted something they couldn't quite hear as he disappeared around the corner.

Claire set down her decoy mug of coffee, all grin and sparkle in her eyes. Owen brought his hands to her face, cupping her flushed cheeks and planted a kiss to her forehead. She leaned into his touch, planting a hand against his chest as they locked eyes. Happy Claire made him just so- well, happy. He’d prank a thousand IT guys if that was all it took to make her this happy, forever. 

“That was fun. We should do that again some time,” Zia said, spinning her chair back around to face her own computer and left the two of them to giggle in each other’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Franklin. ♡ Just a cute little scene involving two of the new characters - Franklin and Zia. Hope everyone enjoyed the new movie!


End file.
